


Angry

by sinningbreaksthecycletoo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Sex, Bottom Moira O'Deorain, Don't copy to another site, F/F, Fluff, Forced Masturbation, Light BDSM, Major Character Injury, Married Couple, Married Sex, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Overstimulation, Strap-Ons, Top Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 21:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18747502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinningbreaksthecycletoo/pseuds/sinningbreaksthecycletoo
Summary: She gets out of the medical ward today. Throughout the entire time she was there, Angela was the one who'd treated her. But it was different. She was uptight and strictly professional. Not that she wouldn't be when doing her job as a doctor, but as her wife, Moira knew what that actually meant.Angela was angry. That was never good.





	Angry

**Author's Note:**

> I had an indescribable urge to write bottom Moira and here we are lol

Moira O'Deorain was anxious. That was never good. 

 

She gets out of the medical ward today. Throughout the entire time she was there, Angela was the one who'd treated her. But it was different. She was uptight and strictly professional. Not that she wouldn't be when doing her job as a doctor, but as her wife, Moira knew what that  _ actually  _ meant. 

Angela was  _ angry _ .  _ That  _ was  _ never  _ good.

All day, the scientist had been glancing at the door, half-expecting her lover to burst through the lab and start shouting at her. But she never did, and Moira felt a feeling of guilt sink into her gut. Angela was  _ very _ upset with her then. Upset enough to not even give her the time of the day.

She knew she shouldn't have been so reckless on the mission. But it's not like she meant to stand in front of an explosion; she didn't know the building was rigged. Her (family) teammates were the ones who carried her back to the dropship as she was hanging onto life by a thread. She never knew what Angela's initial reaction to it was, she was unconscious.

But this reaction was a lot worse. The silent treatment was suffocating. Anytime Moira tried to initiate conversation, Angela would either not respond or shut her down harshly. A part of her knew she deserved it, Angela had warned her not to go on that mission, that she had a bad feeling about it, and yet she still went anyway.

The other part was too defeated to defend herself. She sighed sadly, staring at her research. She barely got any work done today. All she was thinking about was her unhappy wife. She hated being the reason Angela was upset. That had only ever happened once, when they weren't even together.

She shook her head to rid herself of the pointless thoughts. She wrapped up what remained of her work for the day then left the laboratory, heading for her quarters. The hallways were eerily silent, but she wasn't complaining. She wasn't sure how well she would do in a social encounter at the current moment.

Tapping a code, she let herself into her room and sighed again. However, she was suddenly forcefully turned around and slammed into the nearest wall. Her combat instincts almost kicked in, until she realized just who the perpetrator was. Hands on either side of her slammed on the wall and sharp blue eyes glared back at her.

Angela stood silently for a moment, watching Moira's wide eyes and confusion. “Angela…” The redhead called softly, almost longingly, as though she's missed her. The blonde feels a pull at her heart but reels herself back. She came here with a purpose, something she wanted to do. And she was not going to let anything distract her.

“Strip,” she ordered.

Moira's eyebrows shot upwards. “Pardon?” She asked, voice a lot higher than she meant for it to be. Angela  _ growled _ and pushed herself closer to the other. It was then and only then did Moira feel a familiar bulge pressing against the front of her thighs. Blood rushed to her face as she came to the realization that Angela had been casually walking around base with a strap-on attached.

“I said,” Angela repeated, “ _ strip.” _

At that, Moira swallowed. Angela stepped back slightly and eyed her like a predator, waiting. Moira blushed almost violently; she wasn't the one taking orders very often. Still, she obeyed, not wanting to upset the other anymore than she already has and perhaps wanting to see where exactly this was going.

As she rid herself of her clothes one by one, starting from her lab coat to her underwear, Angela made an approving hum that had her look away in embarrassment. “Look at me,” Angela demanded almost immediately, and so Moira had no choice but to do so. For tonight, Angela was in control. She was willing to do whatever she was told.

“Get on the bed,” the shorter one said, taking a step to the side and gesturing to the bed. Moira did so without questioning, taking a seat at the foot of her bed. She fought not to cover herself with her hands, knowing she would be told not to if she did. Instead, she kept them to the sides of her tightly shut legs.

She should have known that would be next. “Spread your legs,” Angela said. Moira felt the heat on her face intensify but she squared her jaw and spread her legs as told. She was no blushing virgin, but Angela being so  _ demanding  _ had an effect on her, one she didn't quite understand yet.

Angela grabbed a chair from the nearly work desk and took a seat right in front of Moira. Moira kept her weight on her palms as she watched Angela eye her privates almost hungrily. She didn't seem to want to act, much to the redhead's disappointment. Instead, Angela leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.

She looked the other dead as she spoke. “Masturbate,” she ordered. Moira nearly choked on her own saliva. She wasn't given a chance to process the word before Angela was speaking again. “Both inside and outside. You're going to have to prepare yourself,” she said, face impossibly flat. Moira was already trembling by the time she'd finished talking.

They stared each other down for a moment. Angela rose an expectant eyebrow and Moira quickly realized she was taking too long. She lifted her right hand and tentatively placed in on her hip before slowly sneaking it downwards between her legs. She wasn't sure if she was moving slow from seduction or shyness.

In a moment of boldness, she spread her lips apart for Angela to see her tight entrance. She grinned and relished in the sharp intake of breath she heard from the other and bravely slathered a finger in her own slick, not surprised she was as wet as she was. Maybe she should bottom more often then.

Angela joined her hands together and set her mouth behind them, trying and failing to hide her biting her lip in anticipation. “Moira,” she warned, and the other froze. Yes, Angela  _ was _ still in control, she remembered. She would have apologized, were she not now busy gently massaging her clit, only resulting in her getting wetter by the minute.

The blonde only watched without commentary or orders. Moira deemed it safe to move her fingers faster, feeling her body begin to ache for that sweet sense of relief. Her breath came in fast pants and she desperately tried to keep her eyes open, wanting to watch Angela just as much as Angela wanted to watch her.

She felt her back arch all of a sudden as she abruptly came, surprising both herself and Angela. She let out a shocked yelp, her other hand fisting the sheets almost hard enough to rip them. Her hands had halted as she spasmed then finally came down, doing her damndest not to lie back.

“Did I tell you to stop?” She hears Angela say. She blinks out of her daze and lulls her head to look at the other, sweat glistening off her skin. “Continue,” Angela demanded casually, as though Moira hadn't just come in front of her. Moira felt herself sweat even more, realizing just what they were doing tonight.

Ever so slowly do her fingers begin to work again. She whimpers, over sensitive but unable to stop. Her legs kept jerking closer to one another and her hips jumped and dug into the mattress, trying to get away from her own hand. “Use your other hand, too,” Angela says, and Moira lets out a broken whine at the words.

She still moves her other hand and presses her fingers inside of herself. She lets out a weak hiss and curls her toes, shutting her eyes tightly. Panting, she begins to work two fingers in and out of her opening. The hand playing with her clit does not slow down and she slowly begins to feel the heat pool in her stomach.

Angela smiles almost wickedly as Moira gets louder and louder while she touches herself before her. She's tempted to do her own thing as well, but she's far too captivated by the sight of Moira clamping down on her own fingers and coming for the second time for the night. She wouldn't want her own pleasure to distract her from something so rare and beautiful.

Moira's eyes watered, cramped hands not stopping their ministrations despite wanting to oh so badly. She had a direct order to follow from her lover. She hiccups softly, forcing her slender fingers to go faster yet again. She nearly screams when she touches her sweet spot within and wants so badly to avoid it, but the sound Angela makes makes her force herself to punch it again and  _ again _ and  _ again. _

She finally allows herself to let out a sob as she came for the third time, drawing her knees together as she threw her head back and shouted. She groans weakly, never having worked herself this much. She rarely ever touches herself, much less this intensely. “Continue,” Angela says, and Moira whimpers.

“Angela, I—”

Suddenly the blonde rises quickly. “Did I say you could talk?” She demands, approaching the bed too quickly for Moira to comprehend. She sees her hands reach down and the look in her eyes and sits up, pushing herself back with her hands. She stares with wide eyes as Angela follows her.

She gasps and nearly makes the same mistake again but catches herself before she does. “P-Permission to speak,” she stutters, hands holding the sheets hard enough to turn her pale knuckles white. Angela hums and snakes her hands around the other's waist. She leans forward to kiss at her neck softly while also rubbing the strap-on's clothed bulge against Moira's exposed cunt.

“Permission granted,” she whispers into her ear, moving her hand down slowly to the abused and sensitive clit. Moira yelps and puts her hands on Angela's shoulders. “I can't!” She exclaimed quickly, trying to close her legs before the other could start to pleasure her once more.

Angela didn't seem to pay her too much mind. “You will,” is all she says before pecking the corner of her lips and backing away slightly. Moira stares with a dry mouth as Angela undresses, eyes widening at the sight of the fake member springing from the other's clothes. It was a lot bigger than their other other toys, in terms of both length and width. Angela did not seem to have mercy in mind.

“A—A-Angela, that's…” She trails off, unable to form words. Her insides already tightened just looking at the toy, wondering how it would feel inside her. Angela hums indifferently and pushes Moira back onto the bed. She grabs the other's legs and lifts them up around her waist then lines up the head of the thick ridiculously bright hot pink toy against the poorly prepped entrance.

“ _ Wait!  _ I— _ AH!” _ Moira yelped, arching her back when Angela pushed into her without hesitation. The hand that was previously just ghosting over her clit now moved furiously as Angela pulled out all the way and pushed back in just as fast, bathing in the sounds of Moira's loud moans.

She meant what she said: she can't. She's far too sensitive. But Angela's brutal pace shows that she means business as she fucks her thoroughly. Tears finally slipped out of Moira's eyes as the woman desperately claws at Angela's hips in hopes of stopping her or slowing her down.

She knew what she had to do for a break. And yet…

“I'm  _ sorry,  _ Angela! I'm sorry! I can't,  _ please, I  _ **_can't!_ ** ” She wept, reaching for the other helplessly as she was pounded into. Angela leaned down and hissed into her ear. “Does  _ sorry _ take back the fact that you almost died,  _ meine Liebe _ ?” She says, panting as she thrusts in and out of her.

Moira only wails in response, overstimulated but too weakened out to stop her physically. Angela kisses her neck so softly it's as if she weren't fucking her into the mattress. She takes her hand back and she presses something and with a click the strap-on is suddenly  _ vibrating  _ and Moira  _ unravels. _

The Irish woman screams, grabbing the sheets over her head and arching her back beyond what should be physically possible as she comes again. Angela moans languidly as the hidden toy within her vibrates too before soon enough she's following suit with Moira, barely able to hold herself up from falling on top of her as she orgasms.

She stays inside her for a minute longer, taking in the soft cries Moira makes as the toy continues to vibrate within her. Finally she pulls out of her and unstraps the contraption, collapsing next to the twitching, boneless heap that was her wife. The only sounds that filled the room for a moment were their aggressive pants and breaths.

Angela shifted then turned to face Moira, who had an arm over her eyes as she quivered almost violently. She tapped her gently to draw her attention, to see if she was there, and was glad to see Moira responsive enough to look back at her. She smiled at her sweetly, cupping her cheek and placing a kiss to her forehead.

Moira blinks. “You're not upset at me anymore?” She rasps out, throat worn from screaming. Angela giggles and runs a hand through the red hair on her hair, gazing into her heterochromatic eyes. “I wasn't mad at you,” she tells her softly, “I was just upset in general, that you got hurt. I could never blame you for that.”

The Irish woman sighs almost in relief and tucks her head underneath Angela's chin, a rare display of vulnerability that usually only follows her bottoming. “Don't sleep just yet,  _ meine Liebe,” _ she says and pulls away, much to Moira's disappointment. “You need to drink some water first. Can you shower?” She asks, getting up to get the other a cup of water to drink.

Moira think then shakes her head. “Later,” she decides. She's far too tired, having orgasmed so many times without a resting period between any. “Thank you,  _ Mo grá, _ ” Moira says, taking the water and doing her best not to chug it down as though she's lived in a desert for the past seven years.

Angela climbs back into bed and smiles at Moira again. Finally, the other smiles back and leans forward, kissing her softly. “I really am sorry, you know,” she says once she leaned away. Angela's smile turns sad as she presses their foreheads together. “I know,” she reassures, pulling her lover closer, “I still think it's not your fault.” Moira hums and wraps her arms around her wife lovingly.

The Swiss woman crouches slightly only to grab the blanket and cover the two of them. Embracing each other, the two slept, happy to be safe and sound each other's arms.


End file.
